


let your waves crash down on me and take me away

by bellawritess



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Car Chases, Driving, First Kiss, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Movie References, Music, Rating for Language, anyway ive moved on, brief shoutout to lily james poor baby got completely snubbed in the film, but then it strongly diverges so don't hold me to it, hopefully the refs arent too obscure, i made a playlist for it. ill post a link, michael's hair color is somehow never specified, seriously they did lily james so dirty, so fill in the blanks for your favorite michael hair look, so much pop punk music, this fic is heavily music-based, this is very loosely a baby driver AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: Calum is a getaway driver, and Michael is a waiter who wants to get away.ORBaby Driver AU.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	let your waves crash down on me and take me away

**Author's Note:**

> wowowowow me watching baby driver and then immediately writing this fic instead of working on my final assignments like i SHOULD be doing?? much more likely than you think. dont yell at me if this fic is ooc i know it kind of is but i still like the idea so hopefully you do too. also i made a playlist for this fic with every song thats mentioned in it (except your song by elton john because it's just referenced with one line sorry elton you didnt pass the test) anyhow [here's the link to the playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0lmlTRIuYT51CP6jSZfhiV?si=zdN0IN_6SQ-sJ7b7yQtl2Q) you can listen to it while you read if you really want to but i don't know how the timing lines up so you be the judge.
> 
> title from ocean avenue by yellowcard, which is both the theme of this fic and the malum theme song, no i will not be taking questions.
> 
> if you havent seen baby driver you can hopefully still enjoy this fic it's definitely not a carbon copy but i tried to convey everything as well as possible but anyway even if you havent seen it read it anyway and maybe youll enjoy it as it is
> 
> okay okay enough talking goodbye enjoy the fic

**Prologue.**

He flips through the channels, stopping for only a few seconds on each one.

 _Click._ “You are so beautiful,” a man says.

 _Click._ “Why are you so nice to me?” a woman asks, and the man replies, “You being serious now? Well, it's easy. It's because you are the weirdest, most beautiful person that I've ever met in my whole entire life.”

 _Click._ “Who are you really, and what were you before?” a black-and-white man asks. “What did you do and what did you think, huh?”

 _Click._ “I’m so happy, I think I’ll give you a kiss,” an animated girl says.

 _Click._ He turns the TV off, and his phone rings.

* * *

“What can I get you?”

Calum looks up. A server is holding a pad of paper, pen poised, looking expectantly at him. “Coffee?” he continues, when Calum doesn’t immediately answer.

“No,” Calum says. “I mean, no thank you.” He takes his sunglasses off and scans the server’s face again, trying to determine if he’s ever been here before. He must be new. Calum spends a lot of time in this diner, and he’s never seen this guy before. He’s positive he’d remember somebody this beautiful, with eyes that green. He squints at the nametag. _Lily,_ it says.

“Lily?” Calum reads.

The server looks puzzled, then glances at his uniform and laughs. “Oh, yeah, sorry, that’s not me. I’m just starting. First day on the job, you know. But, uh, I can get you anything you like.”

“Your name?” Calum says.

The server blushes. “Michael,” he says. “That one’s free. There’s a charge for everything else, though.”

Calum blinks at him, and Michael chuckles. “Damn, you seem frazzled. Are you just starting work or did you just get off?”

“I don’t know,” Calum says. “Don’t have much of a schedule, more like…they call me, I go.”

As if on cue, the burner phone on the table beside Calum’s arm starts vibrating. Calum claps a hand over it. Michael follows the movement.

“Well, they’re calling now,” Michael says. “Does that mean you’re going?”

Calum thinks. “No,” he decides. “They can wait.”

“You might get fired,” Michael says.

“Probably not,” Calum says. 

“What do you do?”

“I’m a driver.”

“Like a chauffeur?” Michael asks. “For famous people?”

“I guess so.”

“Anyone I’d know? Cool bands, pop stars? Movie stars?” He gasps, and stage-whispers: “Leonardo DiCaprio?”

Calum thinks about Doc. “No,” he says. “Not exactly.”

“Pretty mysterious,” Michael says.

Calum holds his shades up to his face. “Maybe.” Then he smiles, to show he’s joking. Michael seems to get it.

“Driving for a job,” he says wistfully. “That must be amazing. I wish I could do that. Some days I wish I could just get in a car, put some music on, and drive forever. Never stop.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But sadly, this capitalist world demands that I have an income.” Michael taps his pen against the pad. “To which end I ask: have you decided what you want?”

“Coffee?”

Michael smiles. It looks good on him. “Sure,” he says. “How do you like it?”

“Black.”

“Can’t say I agree, but the customer is always right.” Michael's eyes twinkle. Calum wants to sit here and stare at him forever. “Anything else?”

Calum thinks about the scene on TV this morning. “You are so beautiful,” he blurts out.

Michael’s face turns pink. “That’s not an order,” he says.

“No, it isn’t.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys.”

“I don’t,” Calum says. “Just you.”

Michael doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that. “Black coffee, coming up,” he says, taking two tries to recap his pen, although he hasn’t written anything down. “Sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

“Will you join me?”

“Michael! Move it along!” The call comes from the kitchen. They both turn and see the cook, giving Michael the stink-eye. Michael turns back to Calum, looking apologetic.

“Next time,” he says hopefully.

Calum nods. “Looking forward to it.”

Michael turns and leaves, and Calum watches him go, drumming his fingers on the tabletop to the beat of _The Middle_ by Jimmy Eat World. _Everything, everything will be alright,_ Jim Adkins reminds him.

* * *

Buddy, Darling, and Griff come out of the bank just as blink-182’s _Roller Coaster_ is starting. A perfect song for a car chase, Calum thinks. They slide in the back, yelling variations of “Go go go!” so Calum floors it, tearing the gear shift into third and skidding on the road as the speedometer jumps to thirty. His heart is racing, but he’s racing faster, going forty, fifty, sixty, skipping straight to fifth gear, weaving between cars and abusing the bootleg turn technique like his life depends on it.

Which it does.

 _The coast will probably never clear,_ says Mark Hoppus, very truthfully. Calum swerves into the opposite lane, passing three cars and nearly crashing into a fourth one. The sirens get louder. Shit. 

He pulls the car off the road, bumping down the grassy hill into the road below and turning around again. Guns the engine. _You drove my car right off a fucking cliff_ , Mark Hoppus says reproachfully. Now there’s a helicopter. Calum tears down the road and sees — jackpot — two identical black sedans, driving just about parallel on the three-lane freeway. There’s an overpass ahead, and Calum has an idea. He pulls up between them going seventy and then skids into a smooth 45, glancing left and right to be sure they’re right beside him. The helicopter looms. The overpass hits, and immediately Calum shifts down to fourth and pulls the car back and around the one to his left. The driver honks angrily as she shifts into the middle lane, and Calum takes her place in the far left. The overpass disappears, and Calum eases the car onto the exit ramp.

Barely a scratch on her. _Roller coaster, favorite ride,_ Mark Hoppus says proudly. Calum exhales and guides them to the parking lot with the drop car. He goes from fifteen to zero, pulling the parking brake before the car is fully stopped. There’s a small jolt. Calum hears someone’s head hit the seat in front of them. He doesn’t smirk, but he’d like to.

Darling takes over driving when they get into the other car, but Calum gets shotgun. He’s not stupid, and neither are any of them; he knows he’s the most important person on this job. All of them are replaceable, but not him.

* * *

“You’re back.”

Calum looks up, and Michael is standing there. He takes an earbud out, slightly dazed.

“I’m back?”

“You are unless we’re sharing a hallucination,” Michael says. “This time I think I can sit for a few minutes. What can I get you?”

Calum looks down at the menu as if he’s been thinking about it all this time. “That’s a kid’s menu,” Michael points out.

“Uh. Yeah. I know that.” He flips it over, then gives up and looks at Michael. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“What should I get?”

“I don’t know what you like,” Michael says.

“Music,” Calum says. “Your hair. Black coffee.”

“That’s not helpful,” Michael says, blushing through his exasperation. “Do you like waffles?”

“Yes.”

“Well…okay. Then get waffles.”

“Okay,” Calum says. Waffles sound good. “Waffles. And black coffee.”

Michael scribbles his order on one of the order slips, brings it to the kitchen, and then returns. The diner is almost completely empty. Michael slides into the booth across from him.

“So what are you listening to?” he asks. 

Calum pulls out his iPod and shows the screen to Michael.

“ _Why Georgia_ ,” he reads. “John Mayer, huh?”

“Am I living it right?” Calum asks, in time with John Mayer, although he knows he isn’t. “You would like this song. It’s about driving and never stopping.”

“Sounds like I would like it, then,” Michael says.

“What music do you like?” Calum asks.

Michael shrugs. “I’m easygoing. I love any variation on rock or punk music. And I’m a sucker for a nice love song. You know, the kind you name after someone. _Cecelia, Hey Jude, Come On Eileen_ …the classics. How much more romantic can you get than naming a song after someone, right? Nobody writes songs about Michael, but I wish. All the Michael songs are either Christian hymns or they’re referring to Michael Jackson or Michael Jordan. Michael’s not exactly the most romantic name. ”

“Disagree,” Calum says. “There are tons of songs about Michael. _Me and Michael. Dear Michael. Michael In The Garden. Michael Who Walks By Night._ ”

“Wow, what,” Michael says, laughing. “You really know your music, huh?”

Calum taps his headphones. “It’s most of what I do.”

“Well, what about you?” Michael says. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Calum,” Calum says.

“I’ve never heard that in a song,” Michael says. “But it’s a nice name. Nice name for a nice guy.”

Calum remembers _nice_ from the TV. _Why are you so nice to me?_ “You are the weirdest, most beautiful person that I’ve ever met in my whole entire life,” he says.

Michael turns red. He turns red a lot. “You can’t just drop a line on me like that,” he says. Calum tilts his head.

“What do you mean?” People in movies are always more articulate than he knows how to be. He’s stolen lines from movies since he knew how to turn the TV on.

Michael shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “You’re the weirdest, most beautiful person that _I’ve_ ever met, too.”

Calum blushes. He understands what Michael meant now; he feels caught off-guard by the sincerity of the words. But in a good way.

“I’ll go get your waffles,” Michael adds. “Back in a sec.”

 _Everything happens for a reason,_ John Mayer points out as he gets up to go.

Calum smiles despite himself and puts his other earbud back in.

* * *

Calum sits as stoic as he can and waits for Doc to finish counting out the money. He ignores the guy poking fun at him. Nobody’s gotten a rise out of Calum in years, and he’s not about to start now.

They get in the elevator. Third level parking. One of them gets out. Second level, the other two leave. On the first level of parking, he and Doc both exit the elevator and head to their cars, which are parked side by side.

“Nearly done, kid,” Doc says. “I’m a man of my word.”

Calum doesn’t dare sigh in relief.

“One more job,” Doc says, gesturing to the silver car that’s supposed to get Calum back to his flat. “Lose this ride.”

 _Good Riddance_ by Green Day comes on. Calum takes the stack of cash and gives a curt nod.

“It’s been good,” Doc says. “You’re a good kid, Calum. Now get out of here and don’t come back.”

“Thanks,” Calum says. “For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while.” _I hope you had the time of your life,_ Billie Joe Armstrong says. 

Doc shakes his head. “I don’t know what the hell that means, kid.”

Neither does Calum, but it sounded like the right thing to say. He puts the money in his pocket and salutes as he heads to the car. _Breathing deeply, walking backwards_ , he thinks.

He takes the car to the junkyard and puts on _The Great Escape_ . They crush the car. _Throw it away, forget yesterday,_ Martin Johnson cries out. Calum bops his head to their music. This is the last time he’s ever going to do this. He finally breathes. Turns away from the car. As he walks away, he pulls the burner phone from his pocket. _Watch it burn, let it die,_ Martin Johnson suggests, so Calum throws the phone into a decaying van nearby. _‘Cause we are finally free tonight._

* * *

By the time he gets to the diner, it’s nearly six. He comes in listening to Dashboard Confessional and almost bumps into Michael.

“You again,” Michael says. 

“Me again,” Calum says.

“I’ll get you anything you like in the next thirty seconds, and then my shift is over,” Michael tells him. “When that clock hits six, I am outta here.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yup. Not staying here any longer than I’m being paid for.”

“Can I come?” Calum asks, thinking he’d rather be anywhere with Michael than alone at a diner.

Michael looks at him, brows furrowed but not upset. “If you want,” he says. “But you might get bored at the laundromat.” Calum frowns. “I have to run some errands,” Michael explains.

“I’ll come.”

Michael smiles ear to ear. “Okay, mate. Your funeral, I guess. Uh, metaphorically. It’ll be horribly boring and you’ll want to die, I mean.”

 _My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me._ “So won’t you kill me,” Calum says, “so I die happy.”

Michael looks bewildered. Calum takes an earbud out and holds it out, so Michael takes it and puts it in his ear.

“I know this voice,” he says. After a moment: “Dashboard Confessional?”

Calum takes the earbud back and nods.

“You’ve got good taste,” Michael says approvingly. “I don’t know that song.”

“It’s called _Hands Down_ ,” Calum says.

“Well, I like it,” Michael tells him. “Can I get you anything before I go?”

Calum shakes his head. “I’m following you.”

“Okay,” Michael says. “Let me just clock out.” He brushes past Calum, and Calum touches his own shoulder and smiles to himself. _Hands down this is the best date I can ever remember,_ Chris Carrabba tells him.

It hasn’t even started yet, and Calum already agrees.

* * *

Calum plays _Why Georgia_ for Michael. They sit next to each other in the laundromat, waiting for Michael’s laundry, and Calum taps his foot on the tile.

Halfway through, Michael turns to Calum with a grin. “You were right,” he says. “I do like it.”

“Good,” Calum says, smiling. He could smile forever. He could smile forever if he was smiling at Michael.

“So what’s with the music all the time?” Michael asks. “How can you ever pay attention when you’re listening to something?”

Calum quirks his lips. “I have this, uh, a hearing thing. I was in an accident when I was little. The music drowns it out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Michael says, “but also, that’s probably the best possible answer to ‘why do you listen to so much music’ that I’ve ever heard.”

Calum laughs. It feels good to laugh.

“Why on an iPod, though?” Michael asks. “Wouldn’t it be easier to put it all on a smartphone? iPods are pretty outdated.”

Calum bites his lip, but he likes Michael a lot, and Michael’s tone is disarmingly sweet, so fuck it. “My mom got it for me as a gift,” he says. “Well, not this one. The one she got me was ruined in the accident. And, uh, she died. And my dad. She was a singer. She loved music. She made me love music.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael says, looking truly sorry. Michael is so beautiful. Sadness does not sit well on him, Calum thinks.

“Don’t be,” Calum says. “It’s a long time ago. I’m just nostalgic.”

“Okay,” Michael says, and to his credit, he moves on. “What else? Come on, I don’t know anything about you.”

“Yes you do.”

“Okay, you’re a driver,” Michael says. “You’re an orphan. You like music. You don’t talk much.”

True enough. “I don’t,” Calum agrees. “I’ve spoken more to you today than anyone in the past year.”

Michael blinks. “Wow. Okay. Well, I’m honored to have unlocked your voice, then. Um, so to speak.”

He gets up and leans against the washing machine. Calum follows, leaning next to Michael, curling his arm behind him.

Michael looks up at him. They’re close enough that Calum can see every color in Michael’s eyes. “Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs.

Michael ducks his head. “Now you’re just quoting Elton John.”

“Just because I’m quoting Elton John doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.”

“If you say so,” Michael says. There’s a pause, long enough for _Why Georgia_ to finish playing in Calum’s earbuds. _Ocean Avenue_ starts up. Another one Michael would probably like. Michael looks away and moves past Calum to a different washing machine. Calum turns and mirrors his steps.

“Now you talk,” he says. He remembers a black and white movie on TV. “Who are you really?”

Michael gives a little laugh of a breath. “Exactly who I said,” he says. “Michael Clifford. Waiter at Bo’s Diner. I live alone. I…I used to live with my mom, but she passed away…a couple months ago. She was the main thing keeping me here. So now I just sort of…wait.” 

“Wait for what?” 

“Not sure yet,” Michael says. He looks at Calum, and Calum moves closer, leaning over Michael once again on the new washing machine. “Maybe for a handsome guy who quotes songs to come and rescue me. Or something.”

Calum blushes.

The door to the laundromat dings. They both look up, pulled from the moment.

“You know,” Michael says, “not that this isn’t nice, but…we could really go someplace else, next time. Or after this. Whenever you’re free. What are you doing tonight?”

“What am I doing?” Calum has a moment where he feels the ghost weight of the burner phone, but he puts his hand in his pocket and realizes it’s not there, and it never will be again. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Michael says. “I forgot. They call, you go.”

“No,” Calum says quickly. “I don’t do that anymore.”

Michael grimaces. “Oh, you’re not driving?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be. I didn’t like it. It’s my choice.”

Michael smiles. His whole face lights up when he smiles. Calum wishes there was a song about that smile that he could listen to for the rest of his life. “Okay. You wanna get pizza?”

“Pizza,” Calum says, “sounds amazing.” _We could leave this town and run forever_ , Ryan Key offers. Calum is tempted to suggest it out loud. But he wants pizza first.

* * *

Michael is devouring pizza like he’ll never eat it again. Calum doesn’t even bother trying to keep up. He listens to State Champs.

“So,” Michael says through a mouthful, as if he doesn’t care whether he sounds polite or not. “What happened with your job, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you were a driver, and then now you’re not,” Michael says. He wipes the grease off his mouth with a napkin and licks his lips. Calum watches him do it. His lips are so very pink and pretty. “Something must have happened.”

“I paid off my debt,” Calum says, too distracted by Michael’s face to realize that might not be the best line. “I mean. Um.”

“Your debt?” Michael screws his face up into a look of confusion. “What kind of debt? What kind of driver were you?”

Calum sighs. “You don’t want to know,” he says. _I’ve got more secrets than you’ll ever know._

“I do,” Michael insists, looking a little bit afraid but mostly determined. 

“I don’t want to tell you,” Calum says. “I think you’ll leave and won’t come back if I do.”

“I won’t,” Michael says.

“You don’t know that.”

“Okay, fine,” Michael concedes. “I _probably_ won’t. Unless you tell me that you’re a mass murderer. Or that you do hit-and-runs for the fun of it.”

It’s neither of those things, but pretty close. “I’m — I was a getaway driver,” Calum says. “I boost cars. I help criminals.”

Michael does a double-take. “Oh,” he says. “Because you…you like to?”

“No,” Calum says honestly. “Because I owed a debt to someone, and I didn’t have money to pay it off.”

“And now it’s paid?”

“Now it’s paid.”

“So you’re not a driver for crime anymore,” Michael says, smiling. “And you’re not going back, are you?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Well, then that’s settled,” Michael says. “I still like you, and I’m still here.”

“You’ll never really know what this means to me,” Calum says. Michael starts to blush.

“I know that one too,” he says. “ _Secrets._ ”

Calum shows him his iPod screen to confirm.

“That’s a great song,” Michael says. “Have you ever seen the movie _Cars_?”

Calum shakes his head. “I don’t watch movies,” he says.

“Well, it seems like the kind of thing you’d enjoy,” Michael says. “You recommended something to me _,_ so I think it’s only fair I return the favor.”

Calum swallows. “We can watch it,” he says nervously, “but I’ll listen to music for the whole thing. I don’t think you want that.”

Michael leans over the table and gives him an unrestrained grin. “Calum, you can do whatever makes you happy,” he says. “We’ll put subtitles on. I always watch with subtitles anyway.”

Calum could kiss him. “I’m so happy, I think I’ll give you a kiss,” he recalls.

Michael breathes a laugh. “Liar. You do watch movies. That’s from _Peter Pan_.”

“Is it?” Calum says. “I didn’t know.”

“You’re just a line-stealer,” Michael accuses. “You steal lines from movies and hope they work in real life.”

“Well, do they?”

Michael blushes. “Maybe.”

Calum gazes at him across the table for a moment, and Michael watches him, slowly leaning in, but suddenly it hits Calum that the mood is all wrong. “Wait,” he says, and pulls out his iPod. He scrolls through his playlist until he finds _Kiss Me Slowly_ by Parachute. Michael watches him, looking amused. 

“Okay,” Calum says, standing up suddenly and holding out a hand. Michael takes it and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. 

“Okay?” Michael says. “Is it the right time to kiss you now?”

“I’d prefer if you waited until the chorus,” Calum says honestly, and Michael laughs. 

“Just tell me when.”

“I’m really happy to know you,” Calum says quietly. “If you want, we can just get in a car, put some music on, and drive forever. Never stop.”

Michael breathes out, _so close_ to Calum’s face that he feels it. “Really?”

“If you want to,” Calum repeats. “I know you don’t know me very well, but I…I like you.” _No, I could not want you more than I did right then._ “I would run away with you. There’s nothing keeping me here either.”

“I hope you know how difficult it is to wait for the chorus,” Michael says, curling a hand around Calum’s neck. The touch makes his skin feel searingly hot. Calum tries to take in every part of Michael, every inch of his face, but he keeps getting caught up in his eyes, which are so overwhelmingly green Calum wants to drown in them. Unthinkingly, he wraps his hand in the fabric of Michael’s t-shirt and tugs him closer.

 _When the time comes, baby don’t run,_ Will Anderson pleads. Calum leans in and kisses Michael, slowly as he can. Michael kisses him back, lips as soft as Calum thought they would be.

He’s gentle when he kisses, but Calum presses harder, desperate to taste as much of Michael as he can, and Michael responds in kind, dragging his fingers through Calum’s hair in a way that makes him shiver.

He pulls away. “I meant it,” he says, raggedly. “About leaving.”

“I believed you,” Michael says, hands still threaded in Calum’s hair. He slides them down to Calum’s neck and drags him back in, kissing him like it’s the only thing there is to do in the world.

 _Picture frames and country roads, when the days were long and the world was small_. It sounds incredible.

Calum kisses Michael once more, smoothing his palms over Michael’s waist. Then he breaks it. “I’m not sure what this is gonna be,” he says, echoing the music. “But we might as well go.”

Michael blinks. “Now?”

Calum shrugs. “Do you have somewhere better to be?”

A smile cracks Michael’s whole face in two. “Why don’t you take me out one more time,” he says. “And then I’ll take you out. And _then_ we can go.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Calum allows, because it is a little fast. “And then we can go.”

“Yes,” Michael says. “And if you turn out to be a total dick, I’m dumping you and heading straight for the nearest gas station to hook up with the cashier.” Calum snorts. “But until then, I’m with you.”

“I’ll try not to be a dick.”

“Then we shouldn’t have any problems.”

“Unless _you’re_ a dick.”

“Hey,” Michael says. “Who’s propositioning who?”

Calum laughs and pulls him in for another kiss, to the words _if it’s something that you want, darling you don’t have to run._

* * *

“No way,” Michael says.

“Yes way.”

The car is a sleek red Ford Mustang, and Calum grins as Michael stands, slack-jawed, staring at it. 

“Shit, Cal, if I had known you could get a car this nice I’d have gone with you two weeks ago when you suggested it.”

Calum laughs. 

“Wow,” Michael says. “Can I see the playlist?”

“No,” Calum says. “You have to hear it. If you know it beforehand it ruins the effect.”

“Whatever you say,” Michael says, shaking his head. “Well, as promised, I have the snacks.” He lifts up an ice cooler. “Anything you could ever need for a road trip heading west and never stopping.”

“Vegemite?”

“Vegemite,” Michael confirms. Calum grins and pulls the passenger door open for Michael.

“After you.”

Michael slides into the passenger seat. “I know you used to do this to escape cops, but I’m just reminding you that this trip is _not_ one of those, so if you pull any getaway car tricks and cause me to have a heart attack, I will be suing.”

“Okay,” Calum says. “Don’t have any heart attacks, then.” Michael glares at him. Calum laughs and comes around to the driver’s seat. He twists the ignition, relishing in the thrum as it comes to life. Then he plugs in his iPod and hits play on the playlist. 

All Time Low’s _Runaways_ roars to life as Calum revs the engine, unable to resist. “This is a good fucking song,” Michael says as the intro plays, and when the lyrics start, they both sing along.

Calum doesn’t start driving until the chorus hits. _So let’s run away,_ Alex Gaskarth proposes, and Calum guns it.

“Jesus,” Michael says, but when Calum glances over he’s smiling. “Okay. Okay.”

* * *

**Epilogue.**

_Ocean Avenue,_ Yellowcard.

“I thought you’d like this song,” Calum says.

Michael grins and kisses Calum. “I do,” he says.

“It’s about running away,” Calum tells him. “It played in the laundromat.”

“Why didn’t you recommend it to me then?”

“I had already played you _Why Georgia,_ ” Calum says. “I didn’t want to come on too strong.”

Michael laughs. “You stole a car for me.”

“You asked me to!”

“Well, I like it, in any case,” Michael says. 

“We could leave this town and run forever,” Calum finally says. Michael looks over at him and his eyes are sparkling.

“We already are,” he says. 

“I know. It’s kind of a sad song.”

“Not anymore.” If Michael smiles any wider, his face will break. Calum can see it. It’s making him smile. “Why are we still sitting here? Are you a driver or an idler? Get a move on, let’s go!”

Calum laughs and the speedometer jumps to twenty-five.

  
  
  


_City of Ocala,_ A Day To Remember.

They don’t usually sleep in the car, but sometimes Calum likes to. He likes cars, has liked them since he got in one for the first time. Michael is in the motel room, and Calum is parked just outside, laying across the backseat and playing _City of Ocala_.

“This is our corner of the world,” he murmurs. “Where we can come to be ignored.”

There’s a tap on the window, and Calum leans his head back to see Michael outside the car.

“Hi,” he says when Michael opens the door.

“It’s almost one in the morning, and you’re listening to —” Michael picks up Calum’s iPod. “A Day To Remember? This isn’t a sleeping song.”

“I’m not sleeping.”

“You should be,” Michael says gently. “Come to the room, Cal.”

The engine’s hum is so much nicer, though, than the stillness of a hotel room. And he doesn’t want to drive Michael crazy playing music all night just to feel the vibrations of it. It comforts him, but only him; he knows it’s annoying. Which is why he’s in the car.

“I don’t want to bother you,” Calum says.

“It’s bothering me that you’re sitting out here in the car instead of in the room with me,” Michael tells him. "I want to cuddle."

Calum sighs. “I don’t like you very much.”

“Liar. Come inside. You can play John Mayer. He has good sleeping music.”

That sounds kind of like a diss on John Mayer, but it’s also kind of true. 

“The car will die,” Michael adds, which is a clincher. Calum knows the car will die, and he can just jump start it in the morning, but that will require talking to someone, and Calum doesn’t feel like it now and definitely won’t feel like it in the morning.

“Okay,” he says. He wonders if they’ll ever go back to their city. Probably not. The knowledge feels good. He turns off _City of Ocala._ It’s not really relevant anymore.

  
  
  


_Jamie All Over,_ Mayday Parade.

The sunset is one of the most beautiful things Calum’s ever seen. 

Michael whispers something, but Calum misses it. He takes an earbud out and looks over at Michael. The light hitting his face makes him turn golden, and his eyes look almost gray. It’s so startling that Calum can’t stop staring. _He_ is the most beautiful thing Calum has ever seen.

“What are you listening to?” Michael whispers. Calum shows him. “Interesting choice.”

“All I ever wanted was to dream another sunset with you,” Calum says, in time with Mayday Parade. Michael hums and tilts his head onto Calum’s shoulder.

“I should never have come on this road trip,” he says conversationally. “We’re both crazy, you know.”

Calum isn’t sure what that means. “We’re both crazy?”

“How long did we know each other before this?” Michael continues. “Three weeks, maybe.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Calum says, a little hurt. 

“No, I did, and I wanted to,” Michael says quickly. “I’m just saying…I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m happy to know you.”

“Line-stealer,” Calum says. Michael elbows him.

“I learned from the best.”

“Well, I am the best.”

“God, can’t I just insult you _once_?”

“Nope. I’m too fast for you.”

“Disagree,” Michael says. “You’re perfect for me.”

Calum sighs happily. “Please don’t tell me that I’m dreaming,” he says softly.

Michael wraps an arm around his shoulders. “You’re not.”

Calum smiles contentedly and closes his eyes. _Wake up with the fondest memories,_ Jason Lancaster bids him, and Calum does. 

**Author's Note:**

> i want u guys to know that if you read this thinking "she shouldnt have italicized the song titles, that's not proper AP style" just know that I KNOW THAT and it's killing me but i had to do it for the aesthetic  
> also, why georgia by john mayer is one of my favorite songs ever so DO NOT judge me for including it. it's a fantastically beautiful song and i love it. john mayer deserves everything good for writing that song. side note: i know baby driver originally takes place in georgia but i think it's pretty ironic that ive got two songs in this fic that talk about georgia love it ANYWAY  
> byee hope you enjoyed you can find me on tumblr @clumsyclifford if you liked it come talk to me about malum or about whatever you feel like im doing anything and everything i can to procrastinate having to finish this final paper so COME CHAT. comment if you liked it, yadda yadda. okay! bye :)


End file.
